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I like the blue phase of the white nights while red alive blood cells are floating in the aqueous dream's gray against the darkest background of blindly clenched eyes. Gosto da fase azul das noites em branco quando no cinzento aquoso do sonho

Velvet time no sun neither rain nor wind the night humidity weeps grass more green now against the grey day nearby under my glance my private landscape. Tempo de veludo sem sol nem chuva nem vento a humidade da noite chora relva agora mais verde

O Amigo e Poeta António José Cravo gravou este meu poema em youtu.be/JoFvGsysDRA (13.07.2022)

A piece of paper fell from my hand as if it were an idea that stood in the balcony and flew taken by the wind to get lost light and useless Caiu-me um papel da mão como se fosse uma ideia que se pôs à varanda e voou levada pelo vento até se perder leve

On my porch there is a resting chair without a body and in my house one night without shadows by corners or hidden in drawers and my soul planes around the light in more and more shorter and faster circles vortex of the body which will lay down in the